


Tough Luck

by Cyberrat



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Reluctant but loving it, Solicited Love Fest, Threesome, hooking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-19
Updated: 2014-07-19
Packaged: 2018-02-09 12:28:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1983030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyberrat/pseuds/Cyberrat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of the Solicited Love Fest.</p>
<p>Peter has fallen on hard times and with the theft of his money, he needs to make ends meet. It's his luck he crosses paths with two adventurous pups on a night out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tough Luck

„Stiles I… I don’t know. This isn’t exactly legal…“

“Yeah, well, no shit, Scott. Sheriff’s son here, remember?”

“Maybe… maybe we just shouldn’t do it. Especially _because_ your dad’s the Sheriff.”

“Are you getting cold feet?”

“What? No!”

Stiles threw Scott an exasperated look, rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck before he looks cautiously around. The neighborhood they’re in is run-down and sleazy. Infamous for the… _fun_ you can have here.

After he made sure nobody was around to see them, he looked back to Scott, rolling his eyes at how supremely uncomfortable the other boy looked, almost trying to hide in the hoodie he wore.

“Dude! Seriously?! C’mon, we’re about to have a grand ol’ time, Scotty. Don’t look like that!”

“I just… What if we are seen by somebody? Or… something…”

“We _won’t_. Trust me.”

Stiles slings his arm around the shoulders of his best friend, gently steering him around the corner, head tilted towards him as he whispers imploringly, “ _Every_ man needs to take a hooker _sometime_ , Scott. It’s like… it’s like a _guy_ code. It’ll be _awesome_. Trust me.”

Scott pulls a face, looking like he is about to argue again – when he stops dead, head jerking up in that doggie fashion of his. Stiles thinks if he could, he would twitch with his ears.

“Scott? What…”

“ _Peter!”_

Scott’s scandalized gasp has Stiles’ head whip around so fast, he feels something crack in his neck. He hisses, hand slamming to the pain and massaging at it before he catches sight of _Peter_ fucking _Hale_ and forgets everything about that crick in the neck.

Peter looks, surprisingly enough, just as uncomfortable as them for a few precious seconds, all three of them standing there like idiots as they stare at each other in dumbfounded mortification before his old, bland mask slips back in place.

“Peter?” Stiles hisses, “What are you _doing_ here?”

“I could ask you the same, Mr. Stilinski. Is the dear Sheriff aware of your location?” Peter’s eyes swivel to Scott, looking him up and down. “Or your _wonderful_ mother?”

Scott looks helplessly towards Stiles, and Stiles… well. He doesn’t know what to say, really.

“We were just… that is… we were…”

His eyes slide down Peter’s body, half-hidden in the shadows, words trailing off as he sees how the older man is dressed. Tight and revealing and… and _slutty_ , frankly. The gape of his V-neck even more prominent through a tear that was obviously hand-made to make it artfully bigger, showing off the incredible werewolf physique.

Stiles stares for a moment, turns and looks at their surroundings, then gazes at Peter once more. Peter, who looks just a tad pale, the muscles in his jaw jumping as he grits his teeth.

Stiles is not dumb. Not at all. And he feels like he has won the fucking lottery, mouth falling open in a wide ‘o’ of surprise.

“Are you _hooking_?!”

He hears the soft, punched out gasp from Scott beside him as the other boy realizes what’s going on. Peter jerks a little.

“Of _course_ not, I’m…”

“The vault…” Scott drawls slowly, eyes sliding from Peter to Stiles’ excited ones. “You’re _broke_ , now. Aren’t you.”

It isn’t a question. Their mouths stretch in wide grins even as Peter starts looking like he bit into a lemon.

He doesn’t tell them to go to hell, though, when Stiles pulls out the money.

.o.

They take him apart. Those dumb, little _boys_ take him apart – make him strip for them and pose for them. Tell him to spread his legs more, to arch his back a little, to bare his throat for them.

They give him lube and watch him open himself up on his fingers before Scott nudges his own in right next to his, making him hiss and clench before his hole opens greedily, accommodating the stretch.

 

He makes it a point to stay silent - to grit his teeth together and glare at them as they play with his body, fumbling, coltish hands sliding across his chest, opening his thighs wide until he is bared to their curious gazes.

 

It is hard to stay silent, though, when the Stilinski-kid shoves his hand away to replace it with his own, sinfully long fingers. When they sit to either side and reach into him with the boundless curiosity of youth, sweaty faces creased in concentration as they wriggle their fingers, searching, searching…

 

And _finding_. His mouth drops open, chest expanding on a deep inhale as Stiles’ long fingers press against his prostate, rubbing hard knuckles across until he realizes what he’s done and eases up on the pressure, devious grin in place as he looks to his friend.

 

Peter… _hates_ them. Or not. He is not sure. Can’t be sure when those boys try to drive him mad with fingers fighting _inside_ him, trying to press and rub on that sensitive spot until he sees stars; until he is writhing away with pained, little sounds and Scott’s hands hold him down on his hips as Stiles whispers, “Hey now… wait a sec. We’ve paid you for this, alright?”

 

He can do this. Fuck. He _can_. He won’t be giving in to the curiosity and play instinct of two stupid boys.

 

… But _god_ did those stupid boys have glorious cocks.

 

Long and sleek, dripping with excitement. They were just enough to fill him up without making him feel stretched out, tasting clean and salty on his tongue when they fucked his throat.

 

Hands stroking his body in near reverence even though he was the ‘Creepy Uncle’ – reduced to their _whore_. There definitely was something about young, inexperienced boys. They weren’t jaded enough to just _use_ a hooker. They wanted him to _enjoy_ it.

 

And… fuck… but he lovedit.

 

Loved it, when Scott pushed down on his shoulders and hiked his hips up. Loved it when that stupid little boy mounted him, driving in deep even as Stiles was sitting at his head and stroking his hair, obscene mouth fallen open as he watches his friend fuck inside their enemy.

 

“Can’t believe he’s doing it,” Stiles is stage-whispering and Peter would have scoffed were he not busy driving his fangs into the bedding and trying to stave off the little noises that young cock tried pushing out of him. “Need the money so bad, Peter?”

 

The hands on his face are large as the Stilinski kid draws his head up, fingers rubbing into his stubbled jaw.

 

He twists his face, trying to snarl at the kid but only drops his mouth open on a low moan as Scott ranges over him, hips starting to jackrabbit fuck into him.

 

“Does he feel good?” Stiles asks breathlessly, fingering Peter’s lips in a nervous fumble that he can only end by sucking them deeply inside, softly nipping on their tips.

 

“Fuck… yes… so good,” Scott moans, “T-Tight. Hot.”

 

It’s pure instinct that Peter’s muscles contract at that – pulling even tighter around that cock splitting him open and making Scott howl. Pure instinct. Yes.

 

“Look at him... I think he likes it?”

 

Stiles pulls his fingers out – dripping with his drool, painting softly over his lips even though he tries snapping at them. He’s only doing it because of the money. He does _not_ like it!

 

… But oh _fuck_ he loves sucking cock and Stilinski’s is perfect – heavy on his tongue as he gently feeds him the pulsing length, deeper and deeper, his excitement an alluring perfume in the air as he softly nudges Peter’s throat with the engorged head.

 

He takes the triumph of the broken sound Stiles makes as he easily opens up, letting him fuck inside.

 

He takes it because he fucking needs something so he can still pretend he’s only done it out of selfish reasons that were out of his hands. Like him needing that fucking money.

 

And not him enjoying getting taken apart by two _pups_ fucking him every which way they can imagine or have seen in the bad pornos they watch.

  
But… damn… Peter thinks it’s never felt so good to get paid.


End file.
